lemon water

This is currently my new "thing":

http://www.lifemojo.com/lifestyle/top-10-health-benefits-of-lemon-water-1422542

It's easy to do and really good for you--try it!

granny panties

I would like to document two outstanding retail experiences I have had recently. And I mean outstanding in its most literal sense, as in "Wow this experience really stands OUT"...

Uno.

A few days ago I was shopping in the Galleria in Houston at my favorite store (name withheld, so as to keep an element of mystery). I'm sifting through some dresses when a man grabs my arm and says "Miss? Excuse me, I was wondering if you'd be able to help me shop for my girlfriend." (Uh, what??) He proceeds to tell me that he and his beloved have been together for 2 years, are very much in love, and well, he wants to buy her some nice clothes. But he has no idea what size she is. "You look exactly the same size as her. What size are you?". I reluctantly respond and give him a quizzical look, like, what the f*ck are you playing at? Then he says the people that work here have terrible style but that I obviously have great style so he wants my opinion. I hate to report this, but this incident continued for about 10 more minutes, mostly because I had no clue how to shake this guy off without being impertinent. I learned a little bit too much personal information about him, and I hope I didn't reveal too much about myself. Honestly, I'm not sure if he was sincerely needing my help or if he had ulterior motives.... but I can say there was a definite creepy vibe. I made sure to mention that I am from out of town and was just visiting my boyfriend that weekend (which was true). As soon as I left the store I made a beeline for the parking garage, surreptitiously checking behind my shoulder the whole way there. You can just never be too sure, these days!

Dos.

This one is slightly less dramatic. Today I was at Target picking up a few necessities. I wait in line at the checkout counter as the lady in front of me finishes her transaction. She's on the phone. Midway through her sentence, she turns to me as I'm checking out the gum selection and says, "Hey, are these granny panties? They're not, right? Are they granny panties? What do you think?" I smile and say...no of course not (although they actually kind of were)...and then she loudly reiterates to the man (I assume) on the other end that the lady behind her doesn't think they are granny panties either. Then she walks away. Slightly bemused, I looked to the cashier for validation of this social episode. He showed no response. Hmm. With no one to share the awkwardness/amusement with, I did what came natural then--I avoided all eye contact until my transaction was complete. Then out of nowhere my cashier asks, in broken English, "What did that lady ask? I couldn't understand. I didn't know what she was asking. Was it about the color?" Considering the awkwardness I would have to endure to actually explain what "granny panties" are to an Asian man who is clearly a little lost about this whole thing, I just smiled and nodded.

Losing It

Have you heard of Jillian Michaels? Well, about 6 months ago I hadn't. Then I was scurrying around Wal-Mart one day looking for some protein powder, when I saw that the least expensive brand was one demarcated with a buff-looking super woman on the front label. Evidently her name was Jillian.

I was soon informed that she was one of the personal trainers on The Biggest Loser (ooohhhh okay, I've heard of that!). Well, now she has a show to herself called Losing It With Jillian and it airs on NBC every Tuesday night at 7 CST. Why am I telling you this? Because I believe that watching this show can potentially change your life.

This is more than a tv show, people. This is about changing the way you eat, think, and do. The families selected for the show are ones with chronic health problems. Quite frankly, they are dying. Not in the sterilized, hospital gown, chemotherapy way you might think of, but in the sudden heart attack kind of way. Essentially, the families in the show are walking time bombs, plagued by a lifetime of poor health behaviors combined with either ignorance or shame. Jillian has made it her mission to intervene in each such family and change their life. Or rather, give them a new one.

I can't encourage people enough to take notice of this show. This is where we must start, as a nation, to turn the obesity epidemic around. Supposedly, we all watch hours of tv, right?* Well let's start watching something that can actually improve and help our friends, families, neighbors. Watch Jillian fight the obesity fight, and then take that inspiration and give it to those around you who need it. One character in last week's poignant episode said to his best friend, "I love you. I would be really really sad if you died." This is the kind of caring and love we need to show those among us who are slowly killing themselves. Health is NOT something worth taking for granted.

*Note. While I actually don't really watch tv anymore, this is one show I plan on making an effort to tune into, simply so that I can glean some inspiration for myself to keep active and healthy. Plus, I want to give this show as much viewership as I can!

it's the little things

I was walking through the Met today after attending a gallery talk on art from ancient Greece, and I found my way into the impressionist wing. I was titillated by a work of Seurat's and decided to take a macroscopic shot to capture the discrete brush strokes of pointilism. The photo came out wonderfully, and eagerly skipped away into the next room. There, I saw another girl ease up closely to a painting and place a camera a few inches away, poised to take a macro shot. The staff person in that room walked over and told her that was not allowed--if she wanted a close up, she would have to zoom. Whew, lucky me! I felt half ashamed and half proud of my sneakiness.

Coming home to my hotel, I waited in line with a small group of people for of the two elevators to take my up to my suite on the 18th floor. As the elevator door opened, I was taken aback by an unexpected act of kindness. A little child ran into the car first, and then a man started to walk in. However, upon seeing me behind him, he quickly hurried back out and both he and the man on the other side of me extended their arms to indicated that I should go first. Talk about benevolent sexism! Most people seem to be under the impression that the southern U.S. is hospitable and the northern is... not. I do not claim to know whether that notion has validity or not, but I will say that we can rest assured that hospitable gentlemen can be found even in New York City (although you may have to go to a hotel to find them...). ;-)

These streets will make you feel brand new

What I should be doing right now: packing for a trip.

What I am doing instead: realizing that I have way too much stuff to fit into my suitcase and hoping that, by distracting myself, my pile will somehow magically shrink and fold itself neatly into an appropriate size.

It's much more fun that way.

Let's see, it's been quite a while, so let's play some catch up. Tomorrow I'm going to New York (whoo!) for a while. Maybe this explains why I've been humming Jay-Z/Alicia Keys in my head all day long. (badum-ching)

In other news... well actually there's not a lot of other news. BUT I've been reading a little this summer (mainly when I'm bored at work, which my bosses are totally fine with, bless them!) and I have a couple book recommendations if you feel so inclined to stop by your local library:

The Last American Man by Elizabeth Gilbert. Holy crap what a great storyteller... this woman is a role model for me. She hit worldwide fame with her memoir Eat, Pray, Love which, I am very ashamed to say, I have not read yet. Why? Because the damn library is always out of it. But, as a substitute, I picked up a journalistic endeavor she had completed before writing said masterpiece, and I was quite pleased! It's a story about a man who eschews modern conveniences and, well, civilized life in general. As a result, he scampers into the woods and decides to be a true "American Man"... like a 20th century Daniel Boone. Two thumbs up!

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson. Again, with this author, can you really go wrong? I think not. Every book of his I've read has had me aching at the sides with laughter pains. Contrary to most of his other books, however, this is no humorous story; this is the story of our planet. Bryson admirably chews textbooks and journals full of scientific fact and history into pieces that that every lay person can swallow, mixed with plenty dashes of humor. I highly recommend it not because of its literary brilliance but because this is the sort of stuff that every member of our species should remember and appreciate. Simply put, it's an intriguing and fascinating read.

There's another great one I've read but, unless you are a budding psychology student, I doubt you would be willing to read it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do yoga. Maybe if I meditate I can will my suitcase to expand.

p.s. I've just realized that I've been averaging about 1 post a month for the past 5-6 months (check out the tally on your right). How pitiful! This will be changing asap.

the.child.at.the.stream

I'm trying to clean out my closet at my old house (a daunting task) and I came across a poem I wrote in high school. As might be expected, I have forgotten about most of the stuff I wrote back in high school. This poem was no exception, but as I glanced over it I found myself thinking "hey, I actually kind of dig this." I consider it a small insight into the person I was in high school -- a person I feel like I barely know now. It's nice to get back in touch with your old self every once in a while.

The Child at the Stream

The hair curled every so delicately,
as if an angel's hand was tenderly holding it in place.
The round blue eye's glittered,
seeing the world as it is meant to be seen:
fresh and pure,
innocent and welcoming.
The soft skin radiated,
shining with the light from the sun,
ever so gently tinted with a dash of rose.
The child played, splashed in the clear stream,
feet nudging the pebbles underneath as if they were personal friends,
and she knew all their secrets,
and they loved her touch because it was full of life and fancy.
The hair danced every so freely,
waltzing about the child's face;
a waltz so lovely and simple,
so angelic and carefree.
I watched from afar,
ever so dismayed,
ever so jealous of a life so simple;
a life of harmony, a life of color:
sunshine yellows and sky blues,
grassy greens and tickle-me-pinks,
the gentle and sincere colors that I always picked first from the crayon box.
My eyes sank ever so deeply,
as I would never know that life again,
never see the world again through a darling child's eyes.
I felt plagued and contaminated, suddenly, all at once.
I knew not of a life so beautiful,
a life so free from the smudge of charcoal blacks and smoky grays.
I watched with remorse the child at the stream,
whose face spoke every so happily,
whose lips smiled every so simply,
whose hair danced every so freely.

Shame on you, salons!

I walked into the salon and told the receptionist I was there for an 11:15 appointment with Patricia. For a minute she looked at me as if she hadn't quite heard me, but then told me to take a seat. Patricia came in and whisked me off into her room, where I draped myself with a smock and took a seat in the oh-so-entertaining swirly chair. She proceeded to touch up my highlights and wrap my head in so many layers of foil that I thought I might soon be picking up radio waves. She then informed me that we needed to let the color set for about 20 minutes, and that I was free to help myself to some magazines conveniently arrayed on the nearby table.

So far so good.

Until I looked at the magazines and a wave of disappointment rushed over me. People. Cosmo. The San Antonio Woman. WTF? Suddenly I became an enraged feminist, asking myself why it is that salons assume that all women want to read about are celebrities and the best sex moves.

The answer is: social constructivism. Society creates gender. Parents give their sons legos and their daughters Barbie dolls. They let their sons play aggressively and tell their daughters to play nicely. It may be unconscious, but that doesn't mean we should ignore it. Gender--that is, masculinity and femininity--are not inherent traits. They are acquired and shaped by culture. And a widespread change in our cultural values could redefine what we consider "masculine" and "feminine."

So, with that being said, I believe salons carry strictly trashy magazines because they are one small part of a society that is enchanted with rigid gender roles. What I would love to see is a salon that also carries the New York Times, Sports Illustrated, Scientific American, National Geographic, PC Gamer, etc. It would be wonderful for a "feminine" place, such as a salon, to recognize that women are intelligent, diverse creatures, and have a multitude of interests beyond just gossip and fashion.

Ranting over.